The Royal Game: Rewrite
by TeniPuriluv18
Summary: The U-17 camp is for the best of the best. That is exactly why Ryoma and the Seigaku team are there. Wait Rikkaidai is there too? Hyoutei? Fudomine? Shittenhouji? Higa Chuu? Ah. The best of the Junior High. Hold on, wait who is that? Why does that person look like Ryoma? IT'S A GIRL! Who is she? WHAT! Rated T for cursing. HAVE FUN! REVIEWS NEEDED TO CONTINUE WITH THE STORY PLEASE!
1. Enter the Girl with the Feline Eyes

**Hey Guys! This is my new version of The Royal Game. It's the same plan and the same characters, but I actually planned everything out chapter by chapter. Also I over-prepared my character from her quirks to her technique. Unfortunately, I will have no use for OC's. I am so sorry my contest winners! BUT! I do have a compensation gift for you! Just PM for the details!**

**Anyways, here I go!**

**Disclaimer: TeniPuri does not belong to anyone but Konomi Takeshi. I wish I had a piece of that though then I would put Sakuno with boys other than Ryoma and make it a HAREM! Lol xD jk jk**

**Chapter 1: Enter the Girl with the Feline Eyes **

* * *

The blaring sunshine of yet another ungodly summer invaded the space of one sleeping monster. That monster groaned in annoyance as it knew that another day had come and with it errands to fulfill. The monster, a female, snuggled further in her comforter hoping to ignore all the signs of the day and bask in the comfort of the perfect temperature between her and the sheets. It was unfortunate, however, that luck did not side with her that day. After all it was Tuesday; the day that seemed as if the entire world's malcontent and bad luck fell on her shoulders. The bomb of bad luck that started that day was her little brother.

She should have known that today was that peculiar day. The evidence of which was the unusual circumstance of her little brother gracing her with his surly presence so early on in the morning. Not that she minded at all, heavens no. It gave an excuse to tease and present which one of them was older, faster, stronger, wiser, and more mature. Jokingly, she gave him the latter during these teasing sessions as she realized early on that it really was not mature to do these things. Fortunately, they both knew that she was more mature than he during the times spent outside of their family walls. He, along with their eldest brother, basked in the fact that they were able to taunt her in turn – from her girly tendencies to her more butch ones. The one rib that they relished the most was that out of all the three of them, she was the one that took to their father the most. It was always said that her little brother was the mini clone of their father, but, on the contrary, it was her. They were both extremely advanced in tennis, but chose to lounge around lazily instead. They both agreed to place the household legacy to her little brother and train him to surpass both of them. They were both motivated when needed to be, but rather not expel such energy on anything else. They refused any sort of prying from paparazzi unless a betting game of playing tennis was issued, and were both snarky and evasive to the boot when actually forced into one or any situation with inquisitions. Finally, both were secretly a bit perverted – one more so than the other. Not that she would admit anything. It was not as if she were exactly like her father in that area of 'expertise.' She was more into the slightly smutty romance novels being a hopeless romantic that she is, but nonetheless, her brothers took it to an advantage. It was on this day that he chose to make such a comment.

The little brother ominously leaned in close to her exposed ear, smirking while he did so. In his hand was a conspicuous bottle with a trumpet like horn sticking on its bright red nozzle. The monster had just fallen back to a light sleep when she heard the telltale sign of light footfalls on her slightly mute floorboards. In her mind, she knew of what was to come. Her mind had not wandered off from its musing at the curiosity it shown when her brother had snuck in a bullhorn in the cart of groceries the other day. With feline flexibility, she kicked the offending bottle out of her brother's clutches and wrestled him to the ground.

"Nice try, outoto1," she mocked him whilst trapping him on her fuzzy carpet, "You'll have to be more discreet than that."

She giggled at his predicament and released him. He growled in annoyance as he exited the room, grumbling obscenities under his breath that she would rather not hear. Ever since his move back to New York and their current place of residence, he seemed agitated more so than ever. She figured it was because of her disapproval of him participating at the US Open, and the fact that he had arrived entirely too late for the registration. She guessed it was more of the former for the reason he had wanted to rudely wake her up.

"Still bitter, Ryoma?" she inquired loudly, "You know that it wasn't my fault!"

All she received was a grumble in response. She rolled her eyes at his obvious mannerism and proceeded to do her morning preparations. After a little mishap in bathroom (curse those damn wet tiles!), she sauntered to the kitchen intending on pampering herself on the doomed day with pancakes and a more-than-healthy dose of maple syrup. As per usual habits, she checked the mail from the day before and found after a few more bills that needed to be paid by the end of the month, there was a peculiar international envelope addressed to her. The only person that would send her a slug mail nowadays was her computer-inept father. She ripped the envelope and shook the letter out, not caring that the envelope was now pieces of scraps on the kitchen floor. His handwriting was absolute chicken scratch and she could only legibly read a few words here and there.

_Ryoka,_

_ You need to return to Japan. I entered you and your two brothers in a tennis camp. Make sure the older seishounen knows and take him with you. I'll send Ryoma a separate letter later. I want you to go there first and scout the area for. Don't tell Ryoma at all. Nanako reserved your tickets on your account. Just print it she says._

_ Oyaji_

It was informal, commanding, and blunt. Just the way Echizen Nanjiro would talk to his only daughter. She knew she could not go against his wishes. It was lucky or unlucky that she, along with Ryoma, was not allowed to participate in the Open this year. She had hoped to spend time lounging at their summer beach house in the Hamptons instead of playing keeper to her two brothers in camp. She knew with great knowledge that this camp she was being forced into would probably house only boys.

'_How unlucky,'_ she thought, _'I don't want to deal with hormonal boys right now.'_

With a long sigh, Ryoka turned back to her cooking. Ryoma chose to enter the room this time after smelling the tempting aroma of food. He spied the crumpled letter in her fingers and the scraps on the floor, and knew immediately that it was their father that sent the letter.

"What did he say?" Ryoma inquired.

Ryoka flinched in surprise. She knew that little habit of hers with mail opening would get to her one day. She flinched inwardly, hoping that the emotion had not been outwardly shown.

"Nothing much," she shrugged nonchalantly, "Are you meeting up with your little friends today at the public court?"

Ryoma noted her aversion to the topic; his curiosity now reaching several heights not yet unrecognized by him. He acted as if he was seven again after seeing a move that Ryoka created. His childhood innocence and curiosity perked beneath his normal stoicism. He leaned on the side of counter next to her and pointedly looked down at the letter. Ryoka looked at him suspiciously then looked down at the letter with him. Both then looked up and gave each other identical questioning looks. The siblings need not to ask each other questions out loud; looks and minutiae gestures were adequate for their conversations. Ryoma's look was still the same child-like curiosity while Ryoka's was interrogative-why-should-I-tell-you one. After a few moments of silence other than the sound of the pancake sizzling, Ryoma opted for a less complicated morning. He looked away and surrendered that little bout, not before commenting teasingly.

"I should have known. You're probably talking about some of those hentai things you read to him."

Ryoka reddened in anger and embarrassment, "No, baka-outoto!"

Ryoma slumped onto his seat in the kitchen island and shrugged, "Whatever you say, nee-chan. Whatever you say."

The older girl chose to ignore the last comment and stew in rage silently over the stove. She smacked the ladle filled with new pancake batter hard enough on the pan to splatter herself with the gunky mess. She cursed in Chinese knowing her brother did not know and could not learn the meaning at all. At least living near Chinatown had its uses besides a quick getaway for dinner. She stomped to her room angrily to take her second shower of the day. Unfortunately, knowing her bad luck on these days, this was only one of the many showers she takes on Tuesday.

* * *

Ryoka and Ryoma went on with their day happily ignoring each other as per usual; although, there was a bit of tension between them when they accidentally crossed paths. It was not until evening that they had actually conversed yet again. They were both sitting down in the living room and silently (not) watching a television show. Of course they were ignoring each other's presence. It was not until the end of a particularly bad show that Ryoka chose to speak up.

"Dad called me back to Japan," she said.

Her eyes quickly scanned her brother's reaction. She noted that just before his face hid his real reactions in that mask of stoicism, he flashed through surprise, confusion, suspicion, and – most surprisingly – envy.

"What does he want you for there?" he asked, a bit of a pout sneaking into his seemingly blank inquisition.

Ryoka hid a small smile while turning away from his stare, "I don't know. All he said was to come back."

"Oh," he spat.

Ryoka looked at him quizzically, "'Oh?' Is that all you're going to say?"

Ryoma stared at her blankly, "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow," she said, rolling her eyes, "Are you sure you're okay, Ryoma?"

"I'm fine. It's not like he's not going to call me soon with the same information," he answered cheekily.

"You know what? You are a little prat," she declared with finality, "But you're my brother and I have to put up with you."

"Hn."

* * *

Ryoka woke up earlier than usual and headed to Ryoma's room with her suitcases in hand. She watched him sleep soundly. He was absolutely adorable snuggled into his sheets with a stuffed cat hugging the side of his head. She bought it years ago when Ryoma's Himalayan cat, Karupin, wandered away. Ryoka actually was the one that let him off to their backyard; a secret she kept all these years. He had cried so much, and had not played tennis for days. She was filled with so much guilt that she bought the stuffed toy with the allowance that she had wanted to spend on a new tennis outfit. All was fine and more after Karupin came back home. Ryoma now only used the stuffed toy when he had to part with the cat for weeks or months. Its soft fur allowed him to calm down or to lessen the homesickness. It was especially useful now that he had left Karupin back in Japan.

She patted "Karupin Junior" on the head, "Take care of him."

Ryoka leaned over him and kissed his forehead. With a final look at her brother's figure, she bid goodbye with a smirk.

"I'll see you later outoto."

* * *

Ryoka arrived at JFK Airport an hour later; the red eye flights just starting to check in passengers. A figure in a grey and black hoodie walked over to her and picked up her suitcases. He was identical to her features only with the fact that he was a male. If Ryoma was here at the moment, a passerby would comment that the stranger was the older version. Surprisingly, the stranger was not holding an orange this time, his usual habit forgotten at the spur of the moment meeting. The simple yet obviously worn necklace's only charm glinted in area's fluorescent lights. He regarded her with a simple nod with his head.

"What class we in?" he asked.

"Good morning to you to, Ryoga," she said drily, "First class."

He yawned a bit and returned her greeting with an equally dry stare, "Good. It's been a while since I've been in one."

Ryoka raised an eyebrow in question, "Even that time when you got forced to play tennis by that fake billionaire? What was his name Sakuba? Sakuro?"

"Sakurafubuki," he corrected, "Hey, at least, I got to play against Chibisuke."

"Yes, but at the cost of almost dying!" Ryoka's voice started to rise in level.

Ryoga sighed in defeat and proceeded to calm her down, "Geez, we came out alive right? I'm still a solid human being!"

Ryoka slapped his ticket on his chest, "I'm still mad at you."

"Why aren't you mad at chibisuke? Why just me?" he scoffed in surprise.

"Unlike you, he was actually there to make it up to me!" She accentuated her words with jabs to his chest.

"What did he do? Be a slave?"

Ryoka sniffed, wiped her nose, and in a quiet voice said, "Yes, yes he was."

Ryoga laughed heartily, "HAHA! God help me. I have a tennis nut for a brother and a sadistic hentai little sister."

"Shut up, you're part of this weird family too!" Ryoka angrily stomped away.

* * *

16 gruesome hours later, the twosome arrived sleepily in Incheon National Airport in Seoul, South Korea. It took longer than necessary because they had a stopover in Hawaii where they then switched into a Japan Airlines airplane. Both were absolutely cranky and found knots in their muscles they had no idea they could. All they wanted was a bed to knockout to.

A large yawn escaped from Ryoga's mouth before he asked his sister a question, "What are we doing here?"

"We need to have a qualification round with the players," she answered with an equally gigantic yawn, "And then, we could go to the camp."

"Huh? Why couldn't we do it at the camp like normal entrants?" he asked drowsily.

"Because I don't know if you've noticed, but we aren't normal applicants. We're the offspring of one Samurai Nanjiroh, one of which already achieved a Grand Slam at the youngest possible age. The other an unknown prodigy with a knack of disappearing. Guess who's who."

"Fine, fine. Wake me up when we get there."

"Baka, we are here."

Ryoga was too sleepy to notice that they had already arrived at their destination. It was a gym specifically for tennis players. His sleepiness was momentarily stopped as he marveled at its greatness. Ryoka dragged him along, wanting to finish and hopefully arrive at Tokyo by midnight. They zoomed past the front desk and went straight for the person waving at them. He was shabby and old-looking, and seemed to be in a happy-go-lucky mood. The siblings both reached a conclusion that this must be the supervisor of the team.

"Hey, you guys made it!" he said with a bit of enthusiasm. He then went off into a long spiel complete with gestures and exaggerated facial motions. The two siblings looked at each other with an 'Oh God!' expression then both groaned in unison.

**"If he doesn't shut up right now, I'm going to shut it for him," **Ryoga said threateningly.

**"Shut up. We'll only have to put up with this for only a bit more. Deal with it," **she tried to pacify.

Ryoga's retort was cut short when a deeper voice sneered at them, "Who are these two?"

The supervisor's enthusiastic and cheery attitude faded away into a glowering façade. He answered with no emotion whatsoever, "New recruits."

Standing in front of the three was a boy that looked older than what his age told the public. He had raggedy long hair that stuck onto his scalp with nasty sweat, and was held down with an equally wet headband. He wore a black, white and red tennis uniform as the others identical behind him. He held a Prince racquet in hand with the other placed firmly on his hip.

"Oi, gaikokujin, **do you understand what I saying? Why are you here?"** he asked with a derogative tone of voice.

Ryoka stepped forward while keeping an arm to restrain a now quietly angry Ryoga. She looked at him like piece of dung and answered, "**Asshole,** we're here to get in the camp. **Now do YOU understand ME?"**

Her mocking answer angered the person behind him. That stranger was a monstrous being that surely towered over Ryoka two times. He had an ugly Mr. T imitation haircut and was surely half–Black. The first stranger just chuckled deeply, "Interesting."

He walked up to Ryoka and examined her at a close distance. She wrinkled her nose as the smell of sweat invaded her nostrils, but kept her stare locked with his.

"Now," he began, "What is a girl like you doing here?"

She moved forward as he moved back, "I'm here to play."

"Hn, a girl like you wants to play with the big boys?"

Ryoka hardened her glare. Her hazel eyes darkened in response and it seemed so animalistic at the moment. Her posture changed from enervation to one of defense, impassiveness, and knowing confidence. The sweaty stranger backed away in intimidation before heading towards the building's indoor courts.

"Follow me," was all he said. His players were all wearing perplexed looks at their leader's actions. Ryoka could tell that he had never surrendered to anyone else's stares before and laughed inside. She knew that he was going to be fun to break.

The two siblings followed obediently, willing the qualifications to be faster. They arrived at a deserted court. The stranger went to the other side of net and looked towards the siblings. He smirked widely with malice in his eyes.

"Who's first?" he challenged.

Ryoka felt Ryoga move forward. She stopped him short with her hand and gave him a look, _'You can't defeat him.'_

_'What? You can?' _Ryoga cocked an eyebrow, _'Did you see his number? He's number one fer-God's-sake, Neko!'_

_'Exactly the reason why I should defeat him! He's too strong for you. Besides taking first place would allow me the exact freedom to scout for Oyaji!' _

Ryoga sighed and backed out. He sat back down at the bench and leaned back, "Fine."

"Thanks, aniki," Ryoka sent an apologetic look her way then took her racquet from her tennis bag. She turned back to her opponent and let herself back into her box.

The stranger laughed meanly, "So the little girl is going to play with the big boy. Can you handle it?"

Ryoka smirked, "Can you handle me?"

* * *

**Yes! I finished the first chapter! I hope you like it! that's 3K+ just for the first chapter. I think I outdid myself and I love it!**

**Anyone like Legend of Korra? MAKORRA ALL THE WAY~! lol xD  
**

**Now I'm just gonna ramble. You can read it if you want or not. Whatever.  
**

**I love love love love Yukimura Seiichi so much! Like no joke. My friend Emma and I speak so much to each other about PoT and Bleach so much. But we both agree that Tezuka is sooooo hot. No joke. We got something for Tsundere and Megane types. Not that i would say that I'm way totally into it. No never mind I really am into it. haha. Another character we both agree on is Fuji Syuusuke. That boy. Mmmm, that boy. haha.  
**

**Anyways... I have a question for you all!  
**

**If you were a character in the Prince of Tennis world, which school would you stay in and why? BUT YOU MUST BE A FOREIGN EXCHANGE STUDENT.  
**

**See you later!  
**

**~Teni! 3  
**


	2. Invites and Warnings

**Thank you all for your Review Alerts and Favorites. Also thank you for my first to reviewers, SighingWinter and Hopelesslyhope.**

**And a very grateful thank you to my Beta, my friend, SighingWinter!**

**Warning: If you don't like curse words then skip over them. I have like a couple in there**

**Also I think I kinda made Ryoka a little badass in this chapter! I like it!**

**Have Fun!**

**Chapter 2: Invites and Meetings.**

* * *

The stranger slumped to his four appendages, heaving heavily for air. His racquet, broken and battered, lay behind him. His eyes were open with shock and disbelief that the person that stood in the other side of the court had just defeated him mercilessly. He was rightfully scared because he had felt so much power behind the tennis balls that were returned to him. He was also scared because, so far, they had only played one game.

During the second time they vied for a point, his senses just overloaded. He felt invincible for a moment then it became all too much. Instead of enhancing his eyesight, it blinded him with bright high beam light. He could hear his own breathing as well as others and all the whisperings in between. His sense of touch was hypersensitive, and felt as if a thousand sharpened needles were pricking him. Then without any warning whatsoever, he sensed nothing. He was blind, mute, deaf, and everything else in between. No touch. No sense of smell. Nothing.

Then she appeared. It was only her and him in that scary world. She was like a bright light of hope – the only escape, but she did nothing. All she did was talk to him.

* * *

"_How. . .how?" he could not utter any words about what he was feeling or anything else for that matter. Ryoka crouched down in front of him, nonchalant about the weirdness he was experiencing. _

"_This," she gestured to the blank space surrounding them, "Is just the beginning. You don't know what I can do. And I don't plan on showing you anything else but this. Even then this move is weak compared to what I have. Now that I have your attention and your position, Number 1-san, there are four rules you __never__ break around me._

"_The fourth is to never interrupt me._

"_Third is that no matter what happens you will always listen to me._

"_Second is to never go against any my wishes or the consequences will be severe."_

"_Why are you telling me all this?" he interrupted._

_Ryoka hardened her stare and tsk-ed as if reprimanding a little boy after breaking a rule, "Number 1-san, did you forget rule number four already?"_

'_Number 1-san' narrowed his eyes, "Why should I listen to you?"_

_The girl wagged her index finger in front of his face and tsk-ed some more. Then she held up her index finger to the side of her cheek and with a face-splitting grin said, "One. The most important rule of them all is. Never. Ever. Underestimate me. I promise you that if you do, you __will__ be defeated. I also assure you that your tennis skills __will__ be sealed off."_

_Her smile that never reached her eyes was gone and in it a glower that could obliterate a human being. With a darker voice she stated, "Permanently."_

_Ryoka stood up from her position and smiled once again. She looked down at her opponent with pity hidden in her eyes and brushed nonexistent dirt off her skirt, "Now then, shall we continue the game?"_

* * *

Then just like that he was back in the courts in the exact same position he was in. None of his previous negative conditions ailed him. He, at the time of his extended detachment of the sense of touch and the fact that he was petrified to his core, had not noticed that he was slumped on all fours on the ground. He had finally heard the shouting of his name by his fellow tennis players.

"Byoudoin-san!" "Buchou!" "Byoudoin-buchou!" "Houo!" were heard continuously.

Across the court, Ryoka just smirked, "Byoudoin desu ka? Mada Mada tou ne?"

Byoudoin roared back to life and stood up before he collapsed to ground still conscious. The followers ran over to their captain and crowded around him; the Mr.-T-lookalike manly fussing at his captain's condition. Ryoka leisurely walked over to her frozen opponent. The crowd of boys parting like the Red Sea. They slid away quickly, not wanting to be near the girl as if she were a heavenly being or an infectious plagued victim. She crouched over Byoudoin and assessed her damage on the poor boy. She then plucked the pin with the number one engraved on it from the collar of his jersey and teasingly hovered it above his eyes.

"This little pin I just won," she started and noticed that he had flinched when she said 'won,' "Well, you can keep it."

Byoudoin's eyes looked as though it were a fly's at the moment by the way it had seemed to pop out of their sockets, "W-why?"

Ryoka wagged her index finger and tsk-ed again, "Oh no, no, no, no, no. Don't get the wrong idea. You're just my shadow."

"Shadow? What?"

"Exactly. _Kame ga ta. _**My shadow**. Which means that this title here is by figurative means only. By name and all rights, it is mine. You're just a stand-in."

Byoudoin was beyond shock. Just a moment ago, he was the number one of the U-17 now he was reduced to nothing but a shadow. A Fucking Stand-In!

"Now, now what is that look you're wearing, Number Nothing-san?" Ryoka mocked.

Byoudoin tried to grab her by the neck, but she restrained him easily with her bright purple racket. He growled, "You! I will get my title back! I swear it!"

Ryoka waved her hand, "Yeah, yeah. Tell it to someone who cares."

Byoudoin thrashed around on the ground like a temper tantrum two year old. Ryoka was amused because he was growling at the same time while doing so. Then an idea popped into her mind.

"Hey, Kame-kun, do you know who I am?" she asked innocently.

He stopped his thrashing for a moment before answering, "No, and why would I care who you are? You're probably some girl that won a raffle ticket at her school to come into the U-17 camp!"

Ryoka scowled in annoyance, but at the same time she was happy. He did not know who he was! And it seemed that neither any of her new minions did either! Unfortunately, she did not know I this was good or bad. Good that he could not reach conclusions because of knowing who she is. Bad because he didn't know her at all. Not even a ring of her name resounded in the vestiges of his memory files which means that even with a Grand Slam under her belt, she did not become popular at all.

Ryoka stood up and looked around at her new followers. She then recited her rules to them. Naturally, there was some dissent among the members, so she put them in their place. Each and every one of those boys now feared her place among them, and just knew that she was a force not to be reckoned with. She left the group and without the pin headed over to her brother.

Ryoga whistled good-naturedly, "He really warranted level two of the Bishop now, did he."

"Yes, he really wanted it. Aniki, don't show off everything you have. Aim for a lower spot than number three because I know right now you cannot handle a power player," She stood hip jutted to the side while she gave him some blunt advice.

He shook his head at her antics, but knew that she was just looking out for him. Also she really wanted him to gain a spot on the team, "Hai, Hai. I will. Be careful there. I won't be able to defend you from your fanboys."

"I'll find somebody else. Don't worry. I'm a big girl!"

"A hentai Hulk girl," Ryoma muttered, but she had heard and earned him with a slap on the back of his head.

Ryoka packed her belongings up and headed towards the exit with a smirk on her face. There the supervisor was holding a bag and a small packet. Without a word, she snatched the two objects from his hand. Just before she left, however, she let her hand show through the door.

With a small two fingered wave, she said, "I'll see you later, aniki."

Ryoga scoffed and shook his head. He mumbled an 'I'll see you too' before shouting, "Who's playing me next?"

* * *

Ryoka arrived at the airport at midnight. Knowing that she could not get to the camp at all in her condition, she rented a room at the nearest hotel to shower and rest. She hated being stinky and nasty, and after not showering for a more than half a day, she was disgusted with herself. Luckily, her mind had allowed her to rest for the night, for surely the next day she would exert much energy at asserting herself as the dominant power of the students at the camp.

The next morning, she was refreshed and up to any challenge. Her immunity to jetlag and time zone changes was a big help. She headed out to the camp with high hopes.

* * *

When she arrived at the main office, she felt as though she had enough of stares. One would think that she had an acquired talent with tolerance with those stares, but unfortunately this was of a different caliber. It was filled with scores of lust, bewilderment, and cockiness. All in all, it was just too much testosterone clogging up her little bubble of estrogen and progesterone.

_'Damn it, why did I wear shorts? It's just screams out 'fuck me!' to them. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!' _she scolded in her mind. Then her whiny, toddler-like personality screamed,_ ' But it was just too hot today!'_

At least her facial expression did not betray the turmoil that was her mind. She coolly strutted to the office overlooking the main courts. Once inside, she was confronted by three older men. One had free flowing, dark-blue hair and wore a white doctor's coat. The other was the same with a doctor's coat, but this time he was immensely gigantor in size and had long hair. The last was a man that seemed as though a scowl was plastered on his face and was the second coming of G.I. Joe. He was blond, muscular, and wore fatigues.

The Sasquatch-like being introduced himself first, "Hello, Echizen-san. I'm your mental coach, Saitou Itaru."

"I'm your strategist, Kurobe Yukio," The bishie of a coach presented himself next, "this is your circuit trainer, Tsuuge Ryuuji."

GI Joe – man grunted in greeting before he spat, "Just because you're a girl does not mean I will change any of my regimen for you."

Ryoka scowled slightly in annoyance. She was saved from a retort when Saitou-sensei had defended her, "Now, now Tsuuge-san. She is our current Number One player."

Ryoka swore that Tsuuge-sensei was just like a little kid by the way acted at the moment. It was as if he were a little kid in a candy store unable to buy the candy that he wanted. It was that and the fact that he had somewhat successfully hid it from the doctors, but not Miss Buchou. After so many years of having macho men and brick walls as brothers, she knew when one was completely trying to hide their childish emotions. The small indications were there just for her observations. The way he suddenly became defensive and the way his scowl deepened further. The most important of these indications was the way his whole body just stiffened. She stifled a small giggle at his actions, knowing that if that little giggle came out, Tsuuge-sensei's manly ego would deflate. Besides it would be a bad idea if she deflated a coach's ego considering they could dismiss her on a whim.

With a cough, Ryoka introduced herself, "Hello. You might already know, but I'm Echizen Ryoka. It's nice to meet you."

Tsuuge scoffed, "What no introduction of who's your father and what you've done?"

Ryoka had enough. She hated it when people thought that she was a pompous little girl just because she earned some willy-nilly awards that accumulated into one big one. Or the fact that she was a tennis legend's daughter that would then give her some sort of special standing in the world. No. She hated all those misconceptions. She earned them justly. No one had a right to say that she had a warped Daddy's little girl personality.

"Look here, **Mister!** I don't care if you're my coach or not, but you have absolutely no right to say who I am. You have no idea who I am in the first place! All you have are information on my tennis skills and some general information that probably everyone who is my fan knows about!" Ryoka ranted then with a deeper voice, "You don't know me at all."

All was silent in the room; the other workers were too shocked at the bravado shown by the little girl. Meanwhile, Ryoka was at still irate from her rant and was now in the universal 'I am mad at you' woman's pose. Her hip was cocked to one side with her hand on the same hip and the other hand was relaxed and ready to strike out at any moment for defensive reasons. Her eyebrows were knit closely together while her mouth was pursed tightly inward.

"No, just no," she mumbled under her breath. Then all of a sudden there was a barking laughter eminating from Kurobe-sensei. He walked over to her and slapped her good-naturedly on the back. Like a boy.

_'Oh no he didn't,' _she looked at him incredulously, _'This fool just hit me in the back and thought that it was fun? He better get his hands off me or I'm going to do it for him!'_

Luckily for the sensei, he was pulled away from an angry Ryoka by an observant Saitou-sensei.

"I like her!" Kurobe-sensei barked out between laughs.

"Hai, hai," Saitou-sensei said laxly, "She's spunky alright."

Tsuuge-sensei huffed in response and with gritted teeth ground out, "She's exactly what we need in these courts and the whole international team: a lion tamer."

Ryoka sighed in defeat, _'What the hell have I got myself into?'_

* * *

**What the hell indeed? Oh boy and this is just the start of Ryoka's adventures in the U-17 camp, too! I know that this is shorter than the first, but the next chapter will be loooooong! So hold onto to your computer chairs or beds or wherever you are sitting! **

**The next chapter will be the introduction of Ryoka to the two remaining international First Stringer students: Oni Jujiro and Tanegashima Shuuji. Then the introduction and the starting of a friendship of the trio of the camp: Oni, Tokugawa Kazuya, and Irie Kanata.**

**I think that my character, Ryoka is a fine piece of work. This time I named her differently because Reina just seemed off. I felt like it did not go with the flow. I had to think in Nanjiroh's perspective. He's a happy-go-lucky guy kinda like Sengoku Kiyosumi. He's also really lazy unless it comes to tennis or gravure idol magazines. He even named his two consecutive kids Ryoga and Ryoma. How lazy was that? So then when I was naming my character, Ryoka was the perfect fit! At first I thought Ryoko was a good fit but once again it didn't sit well with me. The boys both had the vowel A and sounding word AH in their names, so why not make her that too?**

**Oh boy. It's 3:25 am as I am typing this and let me tell you I am tired! But I won't let this stop me hell no! I'm starting on the third chapter . . . tomorrow morning after I sleep. I really need sleep right now. No joke. But I can't. I ate a bar of Hershey's Chocolate and ate Ice and drank soda. So I'm hyped. Now my ankle's killing me because just 5 days ago I sprained it. It's still slightly swollen, but still I can't really tilt it back or move it forward. Hmmmmmmm…. Damn.**

**Anyways, my head is starting to get light headed so Good Night!**

**~Teni! 3**


	3. Kidnapped!

**Hey guys! This is way shorter than the first two chapters, but once again I've been really busy. I hope you'll be fine with this short chapter.**

**IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER. AUTHOR'S NOTE!**

**Chapter 3: Kidnap**

* * *

As Ryoka looked dejectedly at her new higher ups, she wondered how the hell she was going to live with all this madness. She was, at least, used to the wackiness of her family, but take out the two other estrogen bubbles and spike up the testosterone; she was Alice in Macho-land. Just before she asked about her living arrangement and how to get toiletries, the front door slammed open and in came two new men.

The two new people who were about as opposite to each other as Batman was to Superman. The first was a yakuza-looking (Japanese mafia) boy with a bright red fohawk. A perpetual scowl etched on his face, he lumbered over to stand in front of Ryoka. Up close the two opposites seemed at war with each other- His humongous height versus her petite structure-Her lithe, slim form versus his hulking muscularity. However both the stranger and Ryoka had animalistic features to them that enhanced their presences. His presence seemed to wrap immediately around those he chose to intimidate – which, of course, was at Ryoka at this time. It was like watching a lion stress his dominance over his pride, but this time it was over a tiger. Ryoka's presence was the in its habitat. Her moves and looks were graceful and alluring. Her stripes were there to be shown and admire yet she can camouflage herself in an instant. Then attack at will. No one was ever safe with these two.

Fortunately, the second boy was seemed safer to say the least. To Ryoka, the boy looked odd; though it was not the first time she had seen a boy with tan skin and white hair. It was normal for tennis players, especially hardworking and determined tennis players, to become tan over time. What was unusual was his ashen hair. It looked just a bit too odd for his whole complexion, but nonetheless it made his handsome visage all the more appealing and alluring. His aura was deemed safe enough. His smile diffused the tension that clouded the room and somewhat returned it to its normal state.

Saitou-sensei clamped a hand over Ryoka's thin shoulder, disturbing the young champion's thoughts, and announced, "Boys, this is your new captain, Echizen Ryoka."

Both boys raised a skeptical eyebrows at the Saitou-sensei and then at petite female captain. Watching them, Ryoka slow grew angered by their lack of belief of her skills. She opened her mouth to spit a retort at their confusion when Kurobe-sensei began speaking. "Echizen, the blond on your right is your Vice Captain, Tanegashima Shuuji. The redhead is your special case, Oni Juujiro. He stayed behind to make sure you have greater players to test. He is your true number five player."

Ryoka looked on both boys, masking her calculating look with an indifferent emotion, "Okay. Where am I sleeping?"

Saitou-sensei nudged her towards the door, "Hai, hai. If you would please follow me."

Instead of showing her to her dorm room, he proceeded to tour her around the camp. It was impressive, to say the least, with its state-of-the-art equipment to the observers that gathered data on the players, down towards the gourmet food served in the cafeteria. The grounds were kept nicely in an isolated forest mood. An hour later they finally arrived in front of the dorms. At this point, Ryoka was far from irritable; she was a soda pop threatening to blow off its top. Her feet throbbed in pain as she was wearing TOMs and the mountain climb was just too taxing. Thankfully, Saitou-sensei relented to using the elevator that lead to her room. He then informed her that she was to take a whole level for herself.

"Wait, what? Why so many rooms?"

Saitou-sensei tapped a finger to his chin, "Ah it's not one of the regular floors here. It used to be a large storage room. It's a studio with just a bathroom. Unless. . . you would like to room with the other boys? Hmm?"

Ryoka looked at him flatly and with the same tone declared, "No."

The man had the audacity to rub the back of his head sheepishly and said, "Mah ne?"

They entered the floor with the wipe of the card on a slot. Ryoka looked around critically before settling her lone bag on the couch. It was, of course, fully furnished. Oddly though, the furniture was exactly in the style of her preference. It seemed as though it was an exact replica of her room in their Hamptons summer home – the one that she adoringly decorated by herself- a thought which cheered her up immensely. In one corner of the room was a display of drapes interwoven in glorious abundance of amaranthine and auriferous hues. It shielded the perimeter of a circular bed under it, should the inhabitant need any privacy. On the other corner was a large boudoir with her suitcases situated in front along with a vanity mirror attached to a small desk. The next corner was what she assumed was the living room area as there were couches and a chaise that outlined the area. Attached to wall facing said couch, was a large flat screen television and a bookshelf that was threatening to break with the amount of books encased. The last corner was a work area with an ornate desk. The whole room was themed like a sultan's bedroom with its rich coloring of amethyst, aureate, vermillion, and other colors of the royalty. Ryoka had thought it was fit for a queen which in this case she was.

"Do you like it?" A voice caught her in the middle of her internal praise.

"Yes," she answered with a tone of happiness, "I really do, how did you know that I like this style? It looks exactly like my favorite room!"

"That's because we did get it from your room." Ryoka turned around quickly and gave him her hardest and deadliest glare. Her hazel eyes amalgamated into golden-green crystals as she watched her sensei fidget in his spot. Her hands were ready to beat the nervous smile off the man's face for daring to even touch her belongings.

"Your father allowed us to ship your stuff here. It was only the bed, the couches, TV, . . . ,," the colossal man grew quieter as he listed the furniture and trinkets he had shipped. Ryoka, on the other hand, slowly pushed her anger towards oblivion as she tried to overturn the negative into positive. Once again she placed her masked of indifference on before turning back to look at her new abode.

"Okay, come back to the courts in fifteen minutes please. We'll start the training!"

Fifteen minutes later, Ryoka found herself lost in the dense forest surrounding the camp. She was – in the strictest words possible – straight-up shit-scared. It was a traumatizing memory years ago that molded her reaction to forests. On a camping/training trip with Ryoga and her father, she had somehow gotten lost at some point in time during a hiking exercise. She was not found until the next morning, but the experience had changed her views of nature forever. It was later discovered that she had endured getting swept down a river current and avoid a rabid wolf pack. It was months later that she even stomached to be in the same room - let alone be in the same house with Karupin. With her constant bad luck, Ryoka was sure to encounter her worst possible nightmare: the river. It was not until a year later after the particular incident that she would no longer have flashbacks of her time underwater when faced with a stream of water on her head. It was also not until a year and a half later that, she was able to give herself self-congratulating bubble baths. Even with all this progress she still refused to even go near a river nor even a lake or a larger body of water. The Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was just too much to overcome in only less than two years. In face her PTSD was so profound that at that moment she was shivering in fear.

She knew she wouldn't have taken this invitation because of her fear if she knew beforehand that the area was surrounded with the leafy monstrosities. She preferred the hard city lines than this. Unfortunately, she couldn't deny her father's insistence over accepting the position. She was such a daddy's girl. She knew well that she was, but she liked to deny only for her peace of mind; that and she hated that people immediately characterized her as a whiner and total girl. Ryoka was none of those; in fact, her best friends – she had a rare few – had chosen her as their direct bodyguard/leader. Her fierce and stoic personality naturally led her to become the boy repellent. Her life was hard enough as it was with overprotective brothers and father also with her busy training schedule partnered with her tournaments; now not many potential suitors had wanted to make any advances because of her title. Not that she was actually looking for a serious fling. No, rather she just wanted a taste of what it was like to hold a potential boyfriend's hand or some other feeling to crop up. Her self-depreciating thoughts were abruptly cut off when she found herself facing a mountain. For the second time in her life, she had gotten herself lost in the forest.

'Oh fuck,' cursed the young woman. She circled around the mountain hoping to find the path that led her there, but she had no luck; instead, she had hit a dead end on both sides of the mountain and the foliage surrounding the mountain contained no path or even a semblance of one. She was in fact screwed. Ryoka had three choices: go back inside the forest and find a path, climb the mountain and find civilization at the top, or sit and wait for help. The first option was not a viable one with her fear. She thought that she would rather die than go back in the woods. The third option was alright if not for the fact she was more of a proactive person. Her muscles would and could not take the abuse of staying still. "The second choice then," she agreed with no one. Ryoka started climbing up the rocky terrain and hoped that someone – anyone, even a hermit – would be up this mountain. Elsewhere three men huddled in a wall of television monitors, but they were not watching potential players. They were huddled around the handsome coach holding a paper filled with statistics of a player.

"Echizen Ryoka. Age - 15. Birthday - December 18. Second Year College. School - New York University New York, USA." Kurobe-sensei listed, "Statistics . . . three shades?"

Surprised, Tsuge-sensei lifted his body from a push up position and grabbed the paper, "Three?"

There on the paper were indeed, three shades of statistics. The first shade that was yellow in color had already passed the pentagon of skills by one. The second was spiked two more notches up. The last color, instead of numbers it was question marks. There on the bottom were the rest of her statistics.

"Why does she have three?" Tsuge-sensei murmured he pondered over the strange sheet.

Saitou-sensei pushed off the desk he was leaning on and walked around, "She may have opened the Teni Muhou."

"That explains the second color," Kurobe-sensei figured, "Then what is the third color?"

"That. . . actually, I don't know what it is, but we'll find out eventually. After all, Mifune has her now. If anyone can open her third potential it must be her."

Ryoka found herself in front of a man, drunkenly swaying side to side on his heels staring her down with what seemed to be an intimidating stare. On a drunken fool with a beard, it just looked like he was concentrating on not bathing her with the contents of his stomach.

"What is a LITTLE GIRL doing in this camp?" Mifune barked. His hair-curling mouth funk permeated the air with the heat making the stench more potent. Ryoka had literally jumped back a few paces in fear of being infused with the odor itself, "Ah. What do you want?"

"Burp, tell me little girl, what are you doing here?" He stared her down with a nasty look whilst taking another swig of his 'water.' Ryoka glanced at his 'water bottle' and left the man before she knew she was going to beat him down. Just before her foot touched the ground, she was yanked back by gruff, smelly hand. "You, you're coming with me."

* * *

**LE GASP! what is Mifune going to do with our heroine?**

**IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT**

**Hey guys sorry for the late post. fanfiction is blocked at my house, so i'm only using my grandma's laptop every weekend to do this. I'm a senior now so my time is gonna be very busy consisting of ap classes. I'll try to update more than once a month but if I can't don't beat me up for it.**

**Enjoy and review!**


	4. Defeat Leads to a Potential

**OH MY BIJUUDAMA! I am sooooo sorry! It's just that college apps, Senior Year, Art projects galore, and most especially a BITCHIN MOTHER. You know the usual for moi. I AM SO SORRY THOUGH! AUTHOR"S NOTE AT THE BOTTOM. READ IT.**

**ENJOY**

**Disclaimer: I swear if PRINCE OF TENNIS were mine and not KONOMI TAKESHI SENSEI (who is unexpectedly very hot btw if you've seen the TENIPURI FESTA 2011) I would proceed to make Sakuno to a fuckin hottie and have her a reverse harem. IF YOU KNEW ME YOU KNOW THAT I LOVE REVERSE HAREMS.**

**Chapter 4: Trials **

Ryoka fumbled after the drunkard wondering how she placed herself in this predicament. Her ponderings were abruptly put to rest as the stench of the man once again wafted abruptly through her olfactory senses. The man was foul both inside and the outside. The rancid tang of natural body odor mixed with the stale sake and piss rolled off his back in tsunami-like waves which then promptly crashed into her. No matter how hard she had she moved behind him to no avail, she could not avoid it. She gave up a moment later when she was thrown suddenly thrown in front.

In a moment of shocked surprise, she had not noticed her surrounding. The two were now on a pair of vacant tennis courts encased only by trees; no path was visible nor any sight of the cream colored buildings. She felt a foreboding feeling pass through her. It was as if she was to play tennis at this moment, there was going to a punishment later.

Behind her, Mifune studied her closely. He observed that in now way possible this girl had beaten her own father in his own game. The man was Echizen Nanjiro for Kami's sake. He was the best of the best; that is until his biological child had become interested to tennis. How could a petite girl like her surpass her father? Mifune scratched his head in annoyance. There was no other way to tell her potential unless he played a match against her – full power. And he HAD to play her.

Mifune threw a tennis ball at an unsuspecting Ryoka, not caring at all that she was paying attention. It was his first test: reflexes and awareness capabilities. If she couldn't catch that ball, he would not play her.

'For the love of. . . . . . Catch it!' Mifune prayed.

Luckily, Ryoka had noticed long before the tennis ball had hit her. Mifune did not know that it was all coincidence. Ryoka had just turned around to start an inquisition when she found the yellow tennis ball on a collision course to her forehead. Ryoka caught it deftly in her right hand and upturned a curious eyebrow to him.

Mifune barked, "Hurry up and serve."

Ryoka jogged to the other side of the court and calculated her opponent on a first impression, 'Okay. Drunkard old man. Pros: Balance is a no go, coherent logical thinking as well. Decision-making? Not as much. Emotionally compromised? Cons: can use drunk state as a power up. If so might need 'King' level two? Or more? '

"Serve!" Mifune ordered from the other side.

Ryoka scrunched her face in annoyance, but proceeded to do serve the ball rather hard. Mifune watched as the ball sped towards him and scoffed as he felt the somewhat strong power behind it.

"Is that all PRINCESS?" he spat the last word as he added a little harder top spin to the return.

Ryoka growled low in frustration. She grunted in surprise when she had trouble returning the ball. She growled further to insert her own strength to overpower his. At the same time she jump started the first level of the King knowing that she needed none of the other pieces to defeat him. She knew the consequences of activating it, but all tolerance and common sense flew out of her mind when the insult was thrown at her.

"Let's see you hand my King Level One, DIPSHIT!" she hurled the insult with the ball.

The man laughed maniacally not perturbed by the jab at all. His laughs kept rolling along with his grip-slipping hits. What Ryoka did not see was that the man was slowing wearing down. Sweat had started to evaporate from his forehead from the heat that he generated with exercise. Inside of his façade was a man frustrated with seemingly inept capabilities of weaking the girl. His laughs soon turned into grunts of exhaustion and pain.

The game was dragging; indicating that the two opponents were matched in every aspect of skills: strength, speed, stamina, and surprise techniques. Mifune had believed at first for this to be an easy match; after all, it was a girl that he was playing against. Now he could grudgingly admit that she was The Empress of Tennis; the term princess was just too light and underestimates her true skills. He believed that she was THE epitome of the imperfect-perfect tennis player.

During his internal stuggle, Ryoka, on the other hand, was fighting her own consciousness. She had long since abandoned level one of the King, and was now at the last vestiges of the last level: three. She was becoming highly desperate. She did not want to lose this match and admit defeat to a drunken man. Yet even with her all her willpower to obliterate her opponent, Ryoka had started to feel her eyelids drooping centimeter by centimeter. The potency in both her forearms by using Nitoryuu was draining by the second. At any moment she could have well collapsed to the ground in unconsciousness.

She did.

Her opponent followed soon after.

Mifune surfaced 15 minutes later gasping for air. He gingerly crouched on his arms and knees allowing himself to gain enough oxygen in his large body. He slowly lifted his head to find any damages he knew he was inflicted with. It was then that he noticed that his racquet was not in his clutches. He cautiously swiped his head from side to side scanning for his missing object, but to no avail did he find it.

Instead, he chose to reflect on the earlier reasoning of his state of wakefulness.

'_What the fuck was that?_' he pondered.

Mifune was in awe of the power he had fought against in the same little girl he had seriously underestimated. He was amazed his forearm was still in tact after the last forehand he knew he had failed to return; instead, it had propelled his whole body to the wall behind him completely rendering him unconscious. This feeling of losing to a more skilled and powerful player left him with a low hum of invisible energy. It wrapped around his silhouette releasing him from his fatigue. Mifune had not felt this way about tennis for sometime; he blamed it on the lack of players on his equilibrium. Yet, this diminutive young woman had managed to revitalize all those years of indifference and languor.

"She is perfect," he chuckled quietly. His chuckles turned into chortles which then turned into booming guffaws. So happy was he that he held his head towards the sky to let all others (whoever they may be) overhear the mirth in his laugh.

Mifune halted his laugh as he heard a rustling to the side of him, "Get her back to her room."

From the foray of trees, the figure shifted to the sunlight which illuminated his billowing purple hair and highlighted the amusement sparkling in his eyes. Kurobe stepped further into Ryoka's side of the court. He stared down at the sleeping girl, and wondered about what he had just witnessed.

"She has potential," Mifune gruffed before he slipped back into the unending shadows of the forest.

Kurobe swiped a small stray of hair on her face and muttered, "Potential, huh?"

He watched as the breeze played with her tresses before hefting her up his arms. Kurobe looked down once more at the sleeping girl and moved towards the inner buildings of the camp.

"Potential. How much of it does she have?"

The monster once again inhabited her dwelling and made herself comfortable in the softness of her treasures, but alas fate was not her friend as the fiend lightened the dark recesses of her mind. She, groaned and whined, buried her head into soft pillows and groaned again, not wanting to succumb to her enemy's demands.

"Ugh," she sniveled, "No."

Ryoka groggily sat up from her bed and rubbed her eyes. She was glazed in the eyes, and blocked in her mind. Not fully awake at the moment, she started to peel off her clothing on her way to the John. She was, in fact, so groggy that she was unaware of three pairs of eyes following her every movement. Three very male eyes.

As she took her shower, the three eyes connected to three tomato faces discussed the situation between themselves. The first tomato with glasses and permed, bleached hair gaped like a fish. The second tomato with no expression stared at the empty space. While the third growled in response to the situation.

In all of their minds was one thing: what in the world was she going to do them?

**OKAY I KNOW I KNOW IT'S FUCKIN SHORT. I COULDN'T MAKE IT ANY LONGER. IT WAS JUST THAT I WANTED TO KEEP THE HER MOVES A SECRET. I AM SOOO SORRY THOUGH FOR THE LATE UPDATE. I'M JUST SOOOOOOOOOOO BUSSSEEHHHHH.**

**OKAY SO THE REAL REASON. YAH FUCKING COLLEGE APPS AND SCHOLARSHIPS AND A BITCHIN MOTHER. **

**YAH THAT'S THE REAL REASON.**

**DAMN**

**OKAY SO I'M REALLY SORRY!**

**REVIEW TO KEEP MY CREATIVE JUICES PUMPIN!**


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